You're A Sweet Little Mystery
by smc-27
Summary: Puck and Rachel. Friends with benefits. Yeah, that'll work. Oneshot


**A/N:** This is definitely the most smutty thing I've ever written. Well, at least I'm pretty sure. It's not exactly pointless sexin', but pretty close.

Basically, I'm starting from the pilot and changing pretty much everything. So yeah, Rachel is a bit out of character, but it's for the sake of the story. Also, Puck and Quinn never slept together and she is not preggo at all.

**----**

So it's pretty fucked up, if he thinks about it. Which is why he doesn't think about it often.

Honestly, he doesn't even really know how the fuck he got into this.

One minute, he's minding his own business, throwing Kurt in a dumpster and calling Finn a big gay _gay_ for joining glee club, and the next minute, he's backed up against the locker room door with Rachel Berry's little hand wrapped around his cock.

Weird.

It all happens fast. Like, within a few days. Finn joins glee club and starts blowing off practice. Alright, so it's only one practice, but whatever. The point is, Finn picks _glee club_ over football, and that is just fucked. So Puck does some research. And by research, he means he totally spies on the group when they're in the auditorium singing that fucking _awesome_ Journey tune that he loves. (Who doesn't? Journey is kick ass.)

He sees Kurt (yeah, he knows the kid's name; shut up) and that angry black girl and that quiet Asian chick. And they look like they're having fun or something, dancing around like a bunch of homos. And he doesn't really have much to say about that kid in the wheelchair, because he does feel kind of bad, but only because Finn called him out in front of everyone over that prank. What the fuck was that all about?

Right. That's what brought him here in the first place.

And then he sees her. Rachel Berry.

He knows her, kinda, because she's a Jew in a small town and so is he.

Also because he torments her.

What? It's just so easy, what with the knee socks and all that argyle and the fact that her dads are gay and biracial in a town where neither of those things are all that popular. Not that he's racist or a bigot or anything, let's get that out of the way right now. For instance, he doesn't pick on Kurt because he's gay, and he doesn't pick on Wheels because he's in a wheelchair. They're just easy targets, all these losers.

Glee is almost too easy, all of them congregated in one place.

But then there's Finn, holding Rachel's hand and singing and smiling like Puck hasn't seen him do since they were 13 and found Puck's dad's old stash of pornos hidden in the garage.

And so what? Maybe Rachel looks hot in jeans, and maybe she can sing like a fucking superstar, but that's not a good enough reason for Finn to blow off his buddies and the team. Fuck no.

He's never heard Rachel sing before. Finn, yes, because like, any time a classic rock song comes on in the car, Finn knows all the words. It was annoying for a long time, until Puck realized that it was something they actually had in common that no one else did. Nothing like rocking to a little Zep with your boy on the way to a party, right? Right.

But with Rachel, it's different. She's not just singing for fun, he can tell. She's singing because she loves it, because she's better at it than anything else she's ever done, and because she needs to do it.

He watches as she rests her hand on Finn's stomach, right above his belt, and that's when Puck leaves.

Finn joining glee makes a fuckload more sense now.

----

So how does he end up backed against he locker room door with Rachel's lips on his neck?

Right. We're getting there.

He approaches her the day after the auditorium voyeurism thing (which makes it sound a lot fucking dirtier than it actually was). She's by herself in an empty hallway, smiling like a lunatic at nothing at all and walking like she's really got somewhere to be. He knows she doesn't. It's 40 minutes before class starts, and the only reason he's even awake right now is because he and Miss Barnes have a standing date on Thursday mornings in her classrooms. Fuck yeah.

"'Sup?" he asks, stepping directly in front of her. She flinches. What the fuck is that about?

"Good morning," she says quietly.

"Saw you yesterday," he says. She looks confused. Her lips part a little bit and if he's thinking of something dirty, it's just because he just had sex with a hot teacher for like an hour. "Singing."

"Oh! Did you enjoy it? I must say, Finn really brought us all together, which we all needed, to be honest. Glee club was falling apart at the seams, and he quite literally saved the day," she says, and her smile is back.

"Right."

"Why are you talking to me?" she asks abruptly, her face turning solemn again. Her mood swings are already pissing him off. "You don't have anything to throw on me, and unless you're planning a physical attack, which frankly, I just can't see you doing, I'm not entirely sure what your motives are behind this interaction."

"He's got a girlfriend, you know. Finn," he elaborates. Her posture straightens.

"I'm aware of that, thank you," she says curtly. "Now, if there's nothing else...?"

"You know, there're probably other guys in this school who'll take care of the V-Card for you. You just have to ask." He grins lecherously, and he's rendered her speechless, which, if her earlier fucking spiel is any indication, isn't an easy thing to do.

"I refuse to justify your absurd claim with a response."

With a flip of her hair and a tut of her heel, she's walking past him and down the hall.

He watches her go, and she turns the corner so quickly that he's pretty sure he catches a glimpse of panty.

It's not until a few days later that it actually goes down. (Well, _she_ goes down. Ha. But, whatever. Semantics.)

The entrances to the gym and the auditorium are right across from one another. The side door to the auditorium is right across from the boys' locker room door. Whatever. He's never really cared about that before.

But then Finn comes walking out of the auditorium without a word to his best friend at the same time Puck's heading for the locker room after a little weight lifting, and he thinks he hears a sniffle coming from the auditorium. What the fuck ever. Anyone Finn would have been in there with is so not worth Puck's time. He just drapes his towel around his neck and holds onto the ends.

Then Rachel comes out, eyes red as she smoothes out her skirt. She's _tiny_, he notices. Like, really tiny. He thinks he could circle her waist with his hands and his fingers would touch. Not to mention her skirt is super short. She's a whole lot of crazy packed into one tight little package.

And wait, what the fuck was Finn doing in the auditorium alone with Rachel?

She stares at him for a moment, then her eyes meet his, and she has this determined look on her face that's equal parts hot and scary as fuck. She walks towards him and he knows he looks fucking confused. When she presses her hand against his chest and pushes him back into the locker room, he wonders how in the world she knew he was the only one around right now. Seriously, the locker room is empty. He was going to text Santana and/or Brittany to come meet him.

Now that Rachel's lips are on his and she's pressed up against him, he doesn't even give a fuck where his phone is.

And holy shit, she's good with her mouth. She doesn't seem to care that he's sweaty and wearing a shirt that doesn't have sleeves and honestly, anyone could walk in at any moment. You know, if his back wasn't pinned to the fucking door.

"What the fuck?" he asks as she moves her lips to his neck.

"Shut up."

"What are you doing?"

"Kissing you," she says, biting his throat a little bit, in a totally hot way. "Are you going to stop me?"

"Fuck no," he says, grabbing her hips and pulling her closer. He's wearing just a pair of gym shorts, and he needs the friction of her stomach against him. He can't remember the last time it took so little to get him so hard.

She finds his mouth again and that tongue of hers does something crazy to him that makes him moan, and how in the fuck is Rachel Fucking Berry making him moan? Fuck, if he'd known she could do this, he would have gotten all up on this a hell of a lot sooner.

Only it's her getting all up on him. Details.

"I'm not a virgin," she says, and his hand pulls her shirt out from her skirt. He stops for a second, looks at her in disbelief. "I'm not. I've had sex."

"Yeah? With who?" he asks. He doesn't really care, but he wants to know if she's lying.

"My ex-boyfriend Jesse. He's a junior at Carmel. We dated all summer."

"Okay," he says, because who fucking makes that shit up? Then he remembers his words from the other day, and he wonders if she's _asking_. "You want to have sex?"

"Are you going to leave right after?" she asks, her eyes meeting his.

He looks at her, totally fucking confused. God, this chick is _crazy_, and he knows better than to get caught up in crazy chicks. Mrs. Maer totally taught him that lesson in the summer; her husband had just left her and she was off her goddamn rocker. But the sex was hot.

And admittedly, right now all he can think about is Rachel's talented mouth.

"What the fuck's gotten into you?" he asks instead of answering her question.

She kisses him tongue slipping past his lips as she fists the front of his shirt. He leans his forehead against hers when she pulls away.

"Do you ever just want to be wanted?"

He nods. Fuck if he knows why. He doesn't admit shit like that to chicks. He doesn't talk to chicks at all, unless it's about how much he wants to fuck them and what kind of shit he's gonna do to them.

Then Rachel's hand slips into his shorts and he thinks, _fuck it_. If that nod gets him a hand job, he'll fucking take it.

"Rachel, what are you...Why?"

She stills her hand and looks up at him, eyelashes fluttering, and he has no idea who she is. No idea. She's certainly not the geek he's been throwing slushies on for a year.

"Would you like me to stop?" she asks. He arches into her hand, but says nothing. "Well?"

"No," he breathes out. She grins at him and moves her hand again. "Don't fucking stop."

She kisses him again, and he nearly bites her lip when she twists her wrist. He can fucking feel her smiling against him, and he swears to Moses he's dreaming.

When she sinks to her knees, pulling his shorts down in the process, he just groans and fists her hair and stops questioning the rest of it.

----

He doesn't slushie her the next day.

It just feels wrong, okay?

Because she fled the locker room (kissing his cheek quickly on the way out, leaving him there with his shorts around his ankles) before he could lay her down on the bench and make her come. And frankly, he totally wanted to. She gave him the best head ever, and she deserved to be rewarded for that shit. The fact that she left right after made him feel really weird. He should have felt like the shit for getting without giving. But he'd had to rub one out before he could even get to sleep, because all he could think about was how she'd taste and what kind of sounds she'd make if he could get her to let go. Shit.

And so maybe because she gave him some amazing head and didn't ask for anything in return, he kind of felt like her not getting slushied was her reward or something.

(When he sees the length of her skirt, he thinks about how easily it'd be to slip a hand beneath it, and he'd rather finger her than slushie her anyway, to be honest.)

She ignores him completely.

No seriously. It's fucking cold.

----

Four words.

Push it real good.

----

It's two days before he's going fucking insane. He watches her make eyes and smile at Finn in the hallway, and he's pretty sure she's never had that guy's dick in her mouth, so if anyone should be getting smiled at, it's _him_.

Not that he cares. He totally doesn't. He just thinks it's weird.

He catches her between second and third, reaching for her and pulling her into the empty science lab that only ever gets used for dissections. Okay, it's gross. Totally disgusting. There're jars of weird animals and stuff, but whatever. It's free, and having a talk with Rachel will probably be the tamest thing he's ever done in this room.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asks, all indignant, wrenching her arm from his hold.

"The fuck, Berry?"

"I beg your pardon? That isn't even a sentence. And my name is Rachel," she says. She's angry, pink in her cheeks. He wonders if that's just because she's embarrassed or something. She shouldn't be. When a girl can do that shit with her tongue, she should walk around like she's king shit. Queen shit. Whatever.

"You've been ignoring me," he states.

She narrows her eyes, then starts laughing. He scowls. "I'm sorry. Have we ever had a real conversation about anything?"

"No," he says with a smirk. "But I've been balls deep in your mouth."

"You're disgusting," she hisses. He gets the feeling she's resisting the urge to smack him. That could actually be really hot...

"Why'd you do that shit?" he asks. He needs to know. He has no clue why.

"I was...frustrated. And emotional. I wanted to feel like someone wanted me, like I could make someone want me," she explains. "You were there, and you were willing. I don't see why my motives are so important now, after the fact. It was clear you enjoyed yourself."

He grabs her swiftly, a hand splaying at the small of her back, pressing her against him. He toys with a lock of her hair with his other hand.

"Feel free to find me any time you're emotional, baby," he says breathily, leaning down to kiss her right next to her ear.

She pulls away from him and straightens out her top.

"You wish."

She's out the door before he can say anything else.

Jesus Christ, does he _ever_ wish.

----

"...Girls want sex just as much as guys do!"

Truthfully, he wasn't even listening until that point. Now he's watching her walk out of the room, wondering if that little speech was for Finn, for him, or just for herself.

And he's not gonna lie. All he needs is an invitation from the crazy chick and he is fucking _there_.

----

Quinn joins glee.

_Quinn_ joins _glee_.

He honestly doesn't know what the fuck's going on with his friends. But then he refuses to give it to Santana until she tells him the whole story, because as far as he knows, the only things she likes to perform are cheer routines and sexual favours, so he doesn't buy for a second that she's just in it for the singing and dancing. When she tells him the dirty details, Sylvester is a nosey bitch and Quinn wants Finn away from Manhands (a nickname that suddenly bugs him, but only because Rachel's hands are not manly, not in the slightest, and he knows that first...hand.)

Okay, so he kind of gets it. But to be honest, he's a little disappointed in Q for not just making threats and acting like a total bitch to get Rachel to back off. Then he realizes that she probably did, and it didn't work. Go Berry.

Not that he cares or anything.

----

"Dude, do you think..." Finn turns red and looks to the floor, and Puck doesn't know what the fuck his buddy's problem is.

"What? If this is some gay fucking feelings bullshit, I don't want to hear it," Puck says. Seriously, they're standing there in towels, post-shower after their practice. Not the time to get fucking sentimental.

Finn ignores the warning.

"You think it's weird to like two girls at the same time?" Finn asks quietly, leaning forward a little so no one else hears.

Puck smirks. "Nope," he says simply, popping the 'p'. "I do it all the time."

"Oh. Okay," Finn says.

And that's that.

It's weird though, because Puck knows who Finn's talking about. Quinn and Rachel. And he knows Quinn is like, _this close_ to losing her shit because her boyfriend is always hanging out with Rachel these days. He can't really blame her. He's seen the looks too. And if Rachel ever even came close to Finn with that mouth of hers, he's sure Finn would embarrass himself.

So he decides he's gonna do his buddy a solid.

He's going to sleep with Rachel.

And yeah, that might make it sound like something Finn _doesn't_ want, but think about it. Quinn is pissed at Finn, which makes Finn feel like shit and guilty and whatever. And honestly, who wants their girlfriend pissed at them all the time? No one, that's who. So Puck figures that if he gets Rachel away from Finn, Quinn will be happy, which will make Finn happy, which will more than likely get Quinn to put out, which will make Finn even _happier_.

He's a fucking genius. See the shit he does for his friends? No one can say he's not loyal.

"Hey man, you still got that opening in that group you're doing with Schue?" Puck asks as they walk to into school the next day.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I could do it," Puck says confidently. Finn smiles a little, but shakes his head. "Fuck you! I could. I can sing. And I'm an awesome dancer."

"Alright, you can sing okay, but your dancing sucks, man."

"Whatever. I'mma talk to Tanaka," Puck says, and the guys bump fists before Puck takes off in the direction of the gym.

So yeah, maybe it's totally lame, and maybe he has to wear a fucking tux (but let's face it, he looks hot as hell, because he's awesome and chicks love dudes in suits) and the dancing is pretty gay, but he just throws in some hip thrusts and doesn't feel quite so lame. And the song is all about sex, which he figures is pretty awesome and maybe Mr. Schue isn't quite as lame as he always assumed.

He's got his jacket over his arm as he walks through the parking lot to his truck. Alone. Fuck. The only cougars who even paid him any mind were ones he'd already tapped, and that just seemed way boring, thanks anyway.

And then he sees legs and skirt and brown hair curled at the ends and Rachel Berry's lips. She's leaning against his truck.

This was way too fucking easy.

"Feeling emotional?" he asks, his voice low as he approaches her. She's just looking at him. It'd freak him out if he cared.

"You were very good tonight," she says, eyes meeting his. "I didn't know you could sing."

"I'm kinda badass that way." He crosses his arms and it looks like she pouts or something. She so wants him to touch her.

"You should join glee club."

He laughs. She scowls.

"No thanks, babe," he says, shaking his head.

"Why not?" she asks, shrugging her shoulder. He wishes she was wearing less clothing. "You're a talented singer, and your dance moves, while...inappropriate, aren't entirely abysmal."

He steps in front of her and her back is flat against the door of his truck. He places his hands by her hips, neither touching her at all, and she looks up at him with these big doe eyes that make him want to take her right there in the parking lot.

"I could be convinced to join," he says, smirking at her when her jaw drops. God, her _mouth_...

"How dare you?" she asks, clearly offended. She doesn't move though; doesn't even try. "I don't appreciate the insinuation that I'd trade..._sexual favours_ for a new member!"

He so wants to make a joke about her use of the word member. Really, it's fucking difficult not to.

But he just puts his hand on her hip and pushes her back so she's pressed against his truck, pinned there by his hand, and his knee moves between her thighs.

"Why are you here, Berry?"

"My name is _Rachel_, and I came to support Mr. Schuester and Finn in their performance."

"No. Why are you _here_," he says, and he squeezes her hip in hopes of getting the message across. Here in the parking lot. Here at his truck. Here waiting for him. "You want me, don't you? You want me and my inappropriate dance moves to rock your fucking world."

Her eyes move to his lips and her hand curls into his shirt, pulling him towards her as she kisses him hard. Yup. Totally wants him. He presses his thigh against her, and thank fuck she's wearing a skirt. God, she's responsive. She arches her hips against him and lets out this sound from the back of her throat that makes him fucking insane. She's just stuck her tongue in his mouth when he remembers that they're in public and people could like, see him making out with this total loser. Not that he wants to stop. He just doesn't need people seeing this shit.

"My house," he says as she nips at his jaw.

"Your family?"

"They don't care. I have chicks over all the time," he says seriously. She looks offended for a second, but he just presses his thigh into her a little more and her head falls back. God, her neck is hot, too. "I seriously need to fuck you." He can see her blushing, and she lets go of him so she can tuck her hair behind her ear. "Don't get fucking shy, Berry. That's what you want too."

"My_ name _is_ Rachel_," she repeats, more anger in her voice. He rolls his eyes.

He pulls open the drivers' side door and grabs her thigh, encouraging her to get in. She hops up with his help and he pushes her across the bench seat. He swears that skirt is not regulation length. Is there such a thing? Fucking whatever. He can see pretty much all of her thigh, and he can't help himself. After he's got the truck put into gear, he reaches over and runs his hand up her smooth skin, fingertips dancing along the inside of her thigh.

She crosses her legs. He looks over at her as if to ask what the fuck?

"Not yet," she says, not even bothering to make eye contact.

"Look, you're not just gonna tease the shit out of me, then bail, right? Because I've been a dick to you and now you're practically begging me for sex," he says. She lets out a huff and turns towards him a little, knees locked together. (Sue him for trying to see up her skirt...)

"I'm a teenager, Noah. I have needs. You're a single male, and if the writing on the stalls of the girls' washroom is any indication, quite adept at all things sexual. I don't like you. At all, in fact. You're crass and stubborn and frankly, a complete jerk," she says. He's alternating between looking at the road and looking at her. "But I need something to take my mind off the stresses in my life, and I don't see why that shouldn't be you. Unless you don't want me, in which case, take a left on Lawson and then a right on Fox, and I'm the third house on the left."

He looks over again and she's staring straight ahead, hands clasped daintily on her lap.

Holy shit.

"So you just want some no strings attached action?" he asks, you know, just to be clear.

"Is that a problem?"

"Hell no," he says, smirking at her. He thinks he sees a smile.

The lights are out when he gets to his house, thank god. He doesn't let her kiss him until they're in his room and the lock on the door is flipped. (He installed that shit after the third time his mom walked in on him in a...situation...with a girl. It's handy.) Her fingers work the knot of his tie and he pulls her shirt from her skirt. God, he can't wait to see her naked. He won't lie and say he hasn't been curious. Let's face it, the parts of her he's seen (legs, mostly) are pretty awesome. He hopes the rest'll be just as good.

She lays back on his bed before he can get any of her clothes off her. His shirt is open and untucked from his pants, cummerbund and tie on the floor somewhere. He pulls off his shirt and lays next to her, and her hand comes up to run over his chest.

"You like that, baby?" he asks, leaning over to kiss her neck, sliding his hand up her stomach to rest just below her breast. "You're fucking full of surprises." She gives him this wicked little grin and he needs to get out of his pants. He has a feeling the surprises aren't going to quit. "I need you naked."

He works the buttons of her shirt as he kisses her, tasting her tongue - vanilla or something - and slips his hand under the fabric, dancing his fingertips along her ribcage. He pulls away to get a look at her, clean white bra and tanned, toned stomach. He knew she wasn't fat or anything (come on, she's like, the tiniest girl he's ever seen) but her body is so fucking hot. Her stomach is ridiculous. So he kisses it, hand cupping her breast as he slides down her body a little. She's breathing all heavy, from the back of her throat like she wants him really badly.

But she closes her legs again when he tries to get under her skirt. _What. The. Fuck._

"What's with that?" he asks, raising his brow. He knows she's too hot now to say no, so he's not really pissed.

"I wasn't really expecting...What I have on...they're not very sexy," she says, suddenly shy.

"You think I care? They aren't staying on," he says, hand grazing up the inside of her thigh. She giggles a little bit and he pushes up her skirt a bit more. "Let's see 'em."

She pushes the hem of her skirt back down. "No. I'll just...I'll take them off."

"Berry..."

"_Rachel_."

"_Berry_, I don't fucking care about your underwear."

He uses the fact that he's bigger and stronger than her to push her hands away, then straddles her legs and finds the zipper at the side of her skirt and pulls it down. She sits up and pulls off her shirt. Fucking hot. She throws it at him and he actually laughs when he drops it onto the floor and brings his hands back to her hips. She lifts them a little and he pulls her skirt down. Her eyes are closed tightly, like she's waiting for his ridicule. And okay, her pink panties aren't exactly _the_ hottest thing he's ever seen, but there are little white hearts on them and her hip bones are hot as fuck and when he pushes her legs apart a little bit, he can see that she's wet already. He totally fucking cares about her underwear.

"'S'pretty hot, Berry. Not gonna lie," he says, laying on top of her, pressed against her as she bends her knees. He kisses her hard and her hands move up and down his back a couple times. "I owe you for the locker room."

"What?" she breathes out. He kisses his way down her body, eyeing her when she leans up on her elbows. He kisses her through her panties, and... "Oh, god."

So here's what he learns that first time:

1) Rachel Berry really digs it when you go down on her. Like, he wishes he had more hair for her to grab onto when he's between her legs.

2) When Rachel Berry comes, it's likely she's going to wrap her left leg around whatever part of you she can. Which is hot.

3) Rachel Berry is so fucking tight that it's hard not to just come as soon as you're inside her.

4) Rachel Berry really, really digs sex. And she's not selfish, not at _all_, but after, immediately after, when you're spent and she's breathing heavily, she'll turn to you and ask if you'll get her off again. When you just blink at her in response, she'll grab your hand and give you this fucking ridiculously hot little smile when you touch her again.

So yeah, basically? Sex with Rachel Berry is a fucking trip, man. Totally unexpected. Totally hot.

Puck drives her home after, and she doesn't even kiss his cheek before she hops out of his truck, just smiles and says "thanks" and heads for her front door.

He wants to do that _again_.

----

He doesn't talk to her the next day.

He doesn't even look at her. He can't. He knows one glance will have him pulling her into whatever empty room is closest. It might not even have to be empty.

She smiles at him before she slips into the choir room after school, and he's fucking relieved when they have a team meeting instead of a practice, because he's hard as hell for like 20 minutes, so sitting is pretty sweet.

When he's told the team is going to start dancing to loosen up, he doesn't have much of a 'problem' anymore. He's just pissed. Totally not impressed.

When the fuck did his life turn into a goddamn musical?

----

Rachel's sitting on the hood of his truck when he gets to the dark parking lot. There's about a two second time span when he wants to give her shit for sitting around in the dark, then he thinks about a repeat performance of last week's hot as hell hookup, so his mind's pretty much clouded with other things.

"Hey," she says casually, like she's not all legs and chest accentuated (yeah, he knows what that shit means) as she leans back on her elbows. "Good game."

"Yeah, thanks," he says after tossing his shit in the truck bed. "Am I gonna score again?"

Her smile makes him smile. That's a yes.

"You were very good," she says quietly. He steps in front of the truck and puts his hands on either side of her legs. She leans forward, but doesn't touch him. "I think my favourite part was the dancing. If I'd known that was involved in this silly game, I would have come to a game sooner."

She's totally insulting his favourite sport, but he'll let it slide, because she looks totally hot in her black skirt, black jacket, and red and white scarf. Team colours. Fuck yeah.

"Why'd you come to this one?" he asks, tugging on said scarf to bring her closer. He can't really reach her, since his truck is way high. In fact, he wonders how she even got up there.

"I wanted to support Kurt in his first game."

He doesn't believe that shit.

"You sure you didn't just want to make it with the hot ass wide receiver after the game?" he asks, smirking at her. She rests her hands on his shoulders and pulls herself closer, parting her legs a little bit. Since her knees are at his chest, he finds this especially fucking hot. (If he just leans down a little...)

"I do have a thing for the number 20," she says coyly. She notices he's wearing a silver chain, and she plays with it a little bit. He closes his hand over hers to stop her.

"We're totally gonna get down." She's giggling when he pulls her down off the front of his truck and practically shoves her into the cab.

And so yeah, he shouldn't really be so excited about this, but he's watched her parade around for over a week, wearing those fucking little skirts, and he hasn't been able to touch her. And whatever. He's excited because it's sex, and it's a sure thing. He doesn't have to work for it like he'd have to if he tried to hook up with Santana tonight or something.

Oh shit. He was supposed to hook up with Santana tonight. Not a sure thing (never, with Santana, is it a sure thing) but she said she'd see him at the after party. But that was like a half hour ago, before he knew Rachel was sitting on the front of his truck with her hot little knee socks on. So yeah. Santana? No thanks. Rachel is more than enough for him right now.

More than enough, because he's barely out of the parking lot and she's pressed right against him, her knee between his thighs, lips on his neck.

"Shit, baby," he says, laughing softly. He reaches down and runs his hand over the inside of her thigh. "Careful."

"I really...really...liked watching you...dance," she says, speaking between wet (hot) kisses to his throat.

That is the exact moment he decides that he's joining the fucking glee club.

(What? Her hand is pressing against him through his jeans and she's literally sucking on his earlobe. Fuck you if you think he's a pussy.)

They go to her house this time, because frankly, it's closer, and she doesn't tell him he shouldn't take them there. And he happens to remember the directions she spouted off last time.

There's a car in the fucking driveway and the lights are on in the house. Fuck.

She tries to get out of the car, but he grabs her wrist. "Baby, we're gonna have to wait a sec." She smiles and bites her lip, and he knows it's to keep from laughing. "Not funny! You didn't say your dads'd be home."

"It's okay," she says with a shrug. He raises a brow and looks down at his lap. She does laugh this time. "Really. My fathers trust me. They know I'm responsible. And my room is soundproof. We had to do it after our neighbours threatened to sue."

Holy fucking shit. Her dads don't care that she's getting railed and she's got a soundproof room. She might be the coolest girl he'll never admit he knows.

She reaches for the door handle and he just stares at her. What the hell? "Just come in when you're ready. Upstairs, second door on the right."

She hops out of the truck and steps through the door to her house.

Fuck waiting. He's _ready_ now.

He grabs his letterman jacket and holds it strategically as he walks into the house. And yeah, he's a little worried about what her dads are going to say when they see him. They kind of look him up and down, and Rachel's already at the stairs, smiling at him. He vaguely hears her tell her dads his name, and they nod and smile, then she walks up the stairs and he follows her.

She's just barely got the door closed when he hooks an arm around her waist and drags her against him. She laughs a little bit. He doesn't even kiss her before he reaches down and flips up her skirt. Lace boy cut panties.

"Expecting it this time?" he asks, leaning down to drag his lips across her collar bone.

"I was hopeful," she admits. "I thought you might go to the party instead."

"You were playing a fucking hood ornament on my truck," he reminds her. She laughs, pulls away from him and yanks her sweater over her head. "You gonna prove I made the right call?"

Her skirt falls to the ground and she lays back on her bed.

Yes. She. Is.

"Why do you ignore me at school?" she asks as he unzips his jeans.

Conversation? Not what he signed up for. But she's undoing her bra, so he figures that's not so bad.

"I don't."

"You do too," she argues, slipping her hands around his torso when he lays on top of her in just his boxers. He loves that there's no bullshit, like them undressing each other slowly right now. That's not what this is about. And yeah, the bullshit is coming in the form of her actually talking and stuff, but whatever. "You don't even look at me."

"That's 'cause when I look at you, all I see is you naked with your legs wrapped around me," he tells her lowly, nipping at her lips. "That kinda shit gets a guy into trouble."

"You could have told me," she says, fingertips dancing down his spine.

She's kinda got this little smile on her face, a gleam of something in her eyes, and he doesn't really know what the fuck she's getting at. Unless...

"You want this to happen more often? 'Cause, baby, that's not a problem," he says. The way she kisses him lets him know he's picked up what she was putting down. "Yeah?" She nods her head and shifts her hips. He groans and kisses her. "You're so fucking willing."

"Why do you sound so surprised?"

"Have you _seen_ you? Everyone thinks you're this innocent little virgin. You dress the way you do and you're...kinda crazy motivated and shit," he tells her.

"Well, clearly, I don't fit into stereotypes," she says, shrugging one shoulder. His eyes fall to her chest. Naturally. God, she's hot.

No, he's not going to admit that to anyone.

"Clearly."

"Are we going to keep talking? Or can we have sex now?" she asks.

What the fuck has he gotten himself into?

----

The look on her face is priceless when he's introduced as one of the newest members of New Directions (which, is it just him and his one track mind, or does that sound a hell of a lot like Nude Erections?) Not only did he join, but he convinced Mike and Matt to join, which he learns gives the group enough members to compete in competitions and stuff. Judging by the look on Mr. Schue's face, then Rachel's, that's a pretty big deal or whatever.

Huh.

Rachel quitting glee?

Not a part of the fucking plan.

Not that he cares or whatever. She can do what she wants as long as she keeps doing him. And he has yet to initiate any of their hookups, so he's looking forward to cashing in on that, actually. The thing is, that'll be a hell of a lot harder if he can't offer to drive her home or, you know, see her at all.

_Fuck! _

He catches up with her after practice one day, when he's just getting the hang of the dance steps and she's coming back to her locker after working on the play or whatever. He only assumes that because she's holding a script in her hands. He's not like, watching her or whatever.

"Why'd you quit?" he asks, and yeah, he's pissed.

"I have somewhere to be. I can't talk right now. Perhaps we could schedule a conversation for tomorrow," she says.

He looks at her like she's a fucking lunatic, which honestly? She might be.

"I don't schedule conversations. I fucking have them. Why'd you quit?" he repeats.

She sighs and closes her locker, turning towards him. "I can't do everything," she says seriously, posture straight. "I can't do glee and the play, and honestly, I need respect. I need a working environment conducive to furthering my talent and excelling as a performer. I wasn't getting that in glee club. And to be honest, your motives for joining are shady at best. I'm not sure why you even care."

He glances both ways down the hall to make sure no one's around, and then he puts one hand on her hip, pushing her back against the row of lockers. She looks up at him with those eyes and it's all he can do not to just kiss her hard, because dammit, he loves kissing this girl. It's weird. Usually he can do without that part. (He can think of a whole lot of better uses for girls' mouths, thanks anyway.)

But Rachel's got these lips, and they're always plump and sometimes glossy (like right now, fuck) and _goddammit_.

"I wanted to see you," he says gruffly, thigh wedged between her legs. "And I know singing and dancing gets you totally fucking worked up, and I want you to be ready when I tell you I want to fuck you."

"Puck."

"Berry." She scowls at him and he knows she's about to correct him, so he kisses her instead. She pushes him away quickly. "The fuck?"

"Someone's coming," she whispers.

"But I barely even kissed you," he says. He can't keep the smirk off his face. She shoves at his chest.

He just walks away without another word, just in time for Finn to approach Rachel, asking about the play and how she's doing.

Puck realizes he doesn't even have her phone number, so he can't ask her to meet him somewhere or sext her or anything. Fuck his life.

----

So he has sex with April. Mostly because she's not exactly ugly (like, at all; she's in top shape for a coug) and she steps into the locker room shower when he (and the other guys) are in there, and it's pretty fucking hot, actually.

She pulls on his jersey and it looks weird on her.

But not because he thinks about that other girl and the number 20. No. That's _not_ why.

And the sex is alright, he supposes. Not the worst he's ever had, but not the best. Which leaves him wondering who was the best. They're in rehearsal, and he knows the steps so well that he can kind of just go through the motions as they sing Last Name. He's thinking about sex. Which isn't really a big change from what he usually thinks about.

He's thinking about sex with Rachel. How her leg wraps around him when she's close, and she says shit in his ear that he wishes he'd paid attention to. She feels so fucking good, being inside her feels so good, that he feels like April was a total let down.

Fuck.

Sex with Rachel is totally the best sex he's ever had.

He asks to be excused from practice (Okay, he says he's going to take a piss and no one stops him) and finds himself outside the auditorium, listening to Rachel sing the same song April sang the other day.

He likes her voice better too. Dammit.

They're told to take a break, and he waits for her by the stage door, grabbing her wrist before she can walk out of the room. It's dark. It's hot, actually. He pulls her against him, his back against the wall and her stumbling into his arms.

"You scared me," she says breathily.

"I need you."

"I'm in rehearsal. Which is where you should be, too, isn't it?" she asks. "And I saw you yesterday, walking around with that joke of a female lead."

He kinks his brow and grinds his hips against hers. "Jealous?"

"I most certainly am not. I'm playing one of the most iconic roles in theater, and she's a grown woman singing with a bunch of high school kids. No offense, but I think I'm in the better position."

She's pretty hot when she gets all self-righteous like that.

He leans forward, smirks at her sharp intake of breath, and traces the shell of her ear with his tongue. "I've got a few positions in mind," he murmurs. "C'mon. Blow off the rest of your practice."

"I can't," she says, though her fingers are curling around the sides of his shirt, pressing the two of them closer together. "And I have plans this evening."

"Plans?"

"Yes, Puck, plans," she says indignantly. He smirks. He likes it when she's feisty.

"Better than getting sweaty with me?" he asks, letting his lips graze her cheek as he slips a hand beneath her shirt at her back.

"I'm going out with Finn."

He stops moving completely.

"What?"

"We're going bowling. I'm stressed. He said bowling reduces his stress levels, and he offered to take me," she explains.

"Yeah? Well fucking reduces my stress levels, and _I'm_ offering to take you." Sometimes he wonders how he comes up with this shit. He's so awesome. And she smiles a little bit, so he thinks she thinks so too. "C'mon, baby, cancel."

"You really need to start calling me Rachel."

"You don't like baby?" he asks. She opens her mouth to say something, but his hand disappears beneath her skirt and her words die on her tongue. "He won't do this, you know." She breathes heavily into his ear as he kisses a line down her jaw. She presses her hips forward, begging for more. Fuck that. If she's not going to give him what he wants, he's not going to help her out, either. "Have fun bowling."

He lets go of her and walks away, leaving her standing in the dark by herself.

She's so gonna think about him all night.

----

("I'll do it," she says, but only because that kiss wasn't nearly as good as those other ones, and she thinks that rejoining glee club will get her more. More of Puck. God, she wants him. She hasn't stopped thinking about him and his hands and his mouth and the rumble of his laughter when he teases her and she gets impatient.

When she walks into the choir room and sees April sitting on Puck's lap, she doesn't even get a chance to announce her return, because she changes her mind about the whole thing.)

Puck watches her go. He'll never figure her out.

----

He thinks he's hallucinating when she walks into his bedroom that night, wearing a pair of tight-as-hell workout pants and a McKinley sweatershirt. Her hair is in a ponytail and she's wearing a grey headband to keep her bangs in place.

Hot. (Okay, anything she does is hot.)

"What are you doing here?" he asks, setting his video game controller aside after he's paused his game.

Not that he's complaining. Obviously.

"Why did you ask me to come back if you were just going to...to do _that_?"

"Do what?" he asks. His voice is significantly quieter than hers, because he doesn't have a soundproof room. "And how'd you get in here? Did you talk to my mom?"

"She's lovely, you know," Rachel says, and he rolls his eyes. "And do..._April_."

He smirks and sits up, leaning closer to her, though she's just kind of standing inside his room, the door closed behind her. "You're totally jealous."

"I'm not jealous, Puck. I just thought..." She shakes her head and sticks her hands in the pocket of her hoodie. He just stares at her, because he really doesn't know what she wants from him. If she doesn't get naked soon, he's going to be even more confused. "Finn kissed me. Or I kissed him. We kissed."

"Last night?" Puck asks. He tries not to sound pissed. He shouldn't be.

She nods. "You're better."

"Fuckin' right. So why're you all the way over there?" She steps towards him and his hands immediately slip beneath her sweater. She doesn't have another shirt on underneath. Score.

"I'm not coming back to glee. I have creative control over the play now."

"Don't care," he insists, pulling her down onto the bed with him. She lands with one leg between his and the other next to his hip.

"And I still think I have feelings for Finn," she admits seriously. His hands stop moving for a second, but he just pulls her closer, reaching up to unhook her bra.

"You think of him when you're with me?" he asks, latching onto her neck.

"What? No!" she says, aghast. "No, of course not."

Good enough for him.

He lifts his leg a little bit so he's pressing against her, and she lets out a whimper and arches her back. "Tell me what you think about, baby?"

She pulls away from him, tugging her sweater over her head, tossing her bra on the floor. His hands trace a line down her back as his eyes fall to her chest, and she pushes him so he's sitting back against his headboard and moves so she's straddling him.

"I don't want to talk any more," she says, brushing her lips against his.

He grasps her arms, keeping her from moving any closer. "Tell me." She hesitates, so he loosens his hold on her a little bit. But god, he'd love to hear her talk. She reaches between them and slides down the zipper of his jeans. No underwear. Her eyes go wide, but she's totally smiling. Loves it. "I know you love to talk. Talk to me, babe."

She wraps her hand around him and kisses him as she strokes him once. For someone with such tiny hands, she's a fucking pro at this. At everything. _Dammit_.

"Your mouth. I think about your mouth," she says quietly against his lips. "How you kiss me and what you taste like. Cherry sometimes, from slushies, I assume, but usually just..._Good_." Holy shit. Amazing. She twists her wrist and he moans. "And your hands, touching me. How your palm covers my whole stomach or how you..."

"Fuck, Berry. You're so hot," he says. He's practically panting. He's totally at her mercy. She's just sitting on top of him, her hand between them as the other rests on his shoulder, steadying her. He's gripping her hip with one hand, her thigh with the other.

But she stops moving her hand when he talks. "Don't interrupt me when I'm speaking."

She's fucking serious. God. Bitch. This might be one of the hottest things ever. "Sorry. Keep going. _Please_."

She gets this triumphant smile on her face that makes him feel hot all over. "And I think about..." her voice trails, but she squeezes her hand a little bit and his head tips back. "How you feel when you enter me, and when you press into me as far as you can."

Jesus fucking Christ. He's _so_ close, and he knows she can tell. "Baby."

She leans forward, pressing her lips to his. "I think about you when I'm on my own, too."

He grunts, which sounds fucking ridiculous, even to his own ears, and then comes on her hand and she's kissing him. Dammit, that was so not supposed to happen. He's breathing heavily, her lips brushing his intermittently.

"Sorry," he says quietly.

"For what?" She giggles and he honestly has no clue why. Then he realizes that she totally wanted to get him off, that she didn't want him to wait until they had sex. Good girl.

"Can you stay?" he asks, passing her some tissues.

"For a bit," she nods and he kisses her again.

"Good." No apology necessary then. She laughs when he flips her onto her back, kissing her as his hand slips into her pants at her hip, pushing them down. He pulls back and tugs down her pants, taking her underwear with them. "God, you're sexy. You know that right? How fucking hot you are?"

"Puck," she says, like she doesn't believe him or like she just wants to skip this part. No fucking way.

He runs his hands up her legs as he kicks off his jeans. He learns her ankles are really sensitive. That's kind of hot, too. "You are. You don't even know it. God."

"Puck, please." She shifts her hips and spreads her legs a little more. That's a good move on her part, he thinks. He can see all of her, and he wants it. "Touch me."

"I will," he promises quietly, kissing the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. "Wanna know a secret?" She lets out some little noise that he takes as a yes, and he hooks her legs over his shoulders.

But then he thinks about what he was about to say, how he thought of her when he was fucking April, and he shuts his mouth. Do not talk about another chick when you've got one in your bed.

"Puck!" she hisses. She's getting all impatient. He loves that.

He wastes no more time teasing her. It hardly seems fair. She relaxes instantly when he touches her with his tongue, then she runs her hand through his hair when he sucks at her clit. He wishes he could talk her through this like she did him. That'd be fucking hot, telling her all the nasty shit he thinks about her when he should be thinking about stupid stuff like math and glee and dancing and whatever else.

God, he wishes she was in glee. It really would be awesome. They'd be together more, with more opportunity to sneak off places and get down. But she's dedicated to this stupid play, and as she bends her knees a little more, her heels digging into his arms, he thinks the play is the stupidest fucking thing in the world.

And damn, she tastes fucking amazing. He pulls away just a little bit, intent on telling her so, but she shifts her hips and pushes his face back towards her, and she moans when he chuckles against her. Say what you will, but the girl goes after the things she wants. Needs? Whatever.

He slips one finger inside her, and she breathes out, "more," and goddammit it's hard not to just fuck her right now. He's not selfish, never has been, and he's not going to start now. He teases her a little bit, circling his index finger around her, and she arches against his hand. "Puck. _Please_."

"Come back to glee," he says steadily, like she'll get what she wants if she just agrees, gives him what he wants.

"N-no." He pulls his hand from her completely, moves his lips far enough that she can't have him at all. "Why are you...god. I hate you."

He chuckles a little bit and runs his hands over the outside of her thighs. "You don't. Come back to glee."

"I can't," she says, leaning up on her elbows.

"Sure you can," he insists. He leans down and blows a stream of air against her, making her moan again. "Just say the word and I'll finish you."

"No," she says firmly. He raises his brow, as if to ask if she really wants to go there, to leave frustrated.

Then her hand makes its way down her stomach and between her legs, and he's so stunned that he can't even stop her. He just watches for a few moments as she circles her clit. He is absolutely going to lose his shit if he has to see any more of that, so he grabs her wrist and pulls it to her side, pinning it against the bed.

"Baby, just do it. You know you want to. You want to sing with Finn and be around me and be on that stage tomorrow night." He teases her a little more, running his finger as lightly as he can over her. "And you want to come right now. Just say it."

She sits up, sets her hands beside her on the bed, and he's totally distracted by the fact that she's completely naked and he's between her thighs and she's literally staring him down.

"If I were you, I would think very hard about what, exactly, you might want from me in the future, _Puck_. Because what you're holding back from me now, I can hold back from you forever."

He smirks at her and presses a hand against her stomach to push her onto her back again.

Well, fuck. He's not gonna argue with that. And it's totally amazing that she just laid into him when he was going down on her. Well, sort of. It doesn't take him long to start again. And it doesn't take long before her left leg is draped over his back and she's arching her back, saying his name over and over as she comes.

He covers her body with his as she comes down, and her eyes open after he kisses her. "Good?" he asks, grinning proudly.

"Shut up," she giggles. He kisses her again, pushing her legs apart, but she lets out a noise of protest. "I can't. I can't."

"Yeah, you can," he murmurs, pressing his tip against her wet heat. She moans, but shakes her head again as he kisses her cheek. "What's wrong?"

"Curfew."

"Seriously? You have a fucking curfew?" He's not pissed, really, but...damn. All that talk of how she loves him inside her, how she thinks about it when she's alone, and... "I'll be quick."

She laughs a little bit and pushes at his chest, so he rolls off her reluctantly. "I'm sorry. I have to get home." She starts pulling her pants back on, then reaches for her bra. He's just laying there on his bed, hands behind his head, totally naked. He does not like watching girls put more clothes on. "Stop staring."

"I'll stare if I damn well want to," he says with a laugh. "You...leaving me like this."

She pulls her sweater over her head and crawls back towards him, leaning down to kiss him. "Don't make it sound like I didn't...do my part." He grasps her arm, trying to keep her with him. "Puck, I have to go." He groans in frustration and takes his hand off her. "Are you going to walk me out?"

He rolls his eyes, but smirks as he gets up, and she hands him his jeans. He steps into them and zips them carefully, and she watches him with a little smile on her face as she pulls her hair into a tidier ponytail again.

"What?" he asks when he catches her staring.

"Nothing." He grabs her hips and pulls her towards him. "I just like how badly you seem to want me."

"You have no fucking idea," he says, pressing himself against her. She knows. Whatever.

They walk down the stairs carefully, because his house is completely quiet, which means his mom must be in bed already. When they get to the door, she turns and looks up at him with her brow furrowed. He doesn't like the looks of that. That's the _I have a question and I want a serious answer _face.

"What secret were you going to tell me?" she asks. There's this adorable lazy smile on her lips. He likes that he put it there. She's totally satisfied. _Hell yeah_, she is.

"Nothing," he says, shrugging his shoulder. He leans forward, lips grazing her ear. "Just that I couldn't stop thinking about _you_ when I was fucking April."

She pulls away and looks at him. "I'm not sure if I should be disgusted, or flattered." He smirks and winks at her. "However, I suppose it's better that you be thinking of me when you were with her, rather than the other way around."

He kisses her, a little sweeter than he usually does. "It's all you, babe."

She doesn't say anything before walking to her car, and he's left standing there in the doorway, watching her drive away and trying to figure out what the fuck he meant by that.

----

When he gets back to his room, he sees her panties sitting at the edge of his bed, where he certainly hadn't left them. Damn.

He finds her in the hallway before classes start for the day, catching her eye and gesturing for her to follow him into the empty choir room.

"You left something at my house last night," he says. It takes everything in him not to grab her and pull her against him. Especially when she gives him this sexy little smile and glances up at him, blinking slowly.

"Did I?" she asks coyly. He raises his brow. "You know what they say, don't you? Finders, keepers."

She hops up to kiss him quickly before leaving the room.

Well. Okay, then.

----

She shows up just in time to save the day, and she's got this speech that makes even him think that she's not just doing it because she wants to get laid.

Alright, alright. He knows that's not the _real_ reason. She just loves glee and wants her friends back and blah blah blah. Whatever. He's so getting some after this. Right on.

He's staring at her as she buttons the last two buttons of her shirt and then slips her tie over her head. But it's okay, because Matt's totally staring too.

Wait.

He slugs his buddy on the arm, which gets him a glare. "Don't be a creeper. She'll probably have you arrested," Puck says.

It's not jealousy.

It's _not_.

It's weird, he thinks, that he's never actually performed with her before.

Well, not music. Heh.

She's such a good singer that it makes him totally crazy. Like, if they're alone next and she just says she's going to sing and not blow him, he'll be all, _'Okay, baby, you just go ahead.'_

No really. She's _that_ good.

But then there's the whole matter of him not having been inside her for like...way too long, and he really, really hopes that he can have sex with her like, within the hour.

So maybe it's crazy, since everyone else is in the room, but they're all looking away anyway, talking amongst themselves. He grabs her tie, wraps it around his hand a couple times and pulls her towards him. She looks up at him like he's insane, but he kisses her, just once, just quickly, before she can say anything.

"Are you insane?" she hisses, pulling away from him.

"You came back."

She shrugs her shoulder and looks into his eyes. "My friends needed me."

"Yeah? I need you," he says, with an entirely different connotation.

She smiles and they both see Finn in their periphery, coming towards them. "Tonight. My house."

Finn walks up and starts talking about their performance, hugging Rachel and stuff, and Puck isn't even jealous, because he's the one going home with her later.

----

When she discovers that he plays guitar, the look on her face lets him know he's the _man_. It's not like he's been hiding it, just any time she's been in his room, his guitar has been in its case, tucked under the bed where he keeps it, carefully humidified. (What? He takes that shit seriously, okay?)

She comes in one day and he's playing an old Neil Diamond tune, and she's practically salivating when she hears it.

She gives him the best head of his entire life, better than even that first time, and then talks to him about his repertoire and range and how long he's been playing.

He tucks his hand beneath the skirt she's still wearing and tells her to shut up. She does.

----

His buddies start noticing, one day, that it's been a while since Puck threw a slushie on 'that glee freak', and they're totally bugging him about it. His reminders that he's in glee, and Finn's in glee, too, don't do anything to make them back the fuck off. When he says he's got better shit to do with his time, they don't buy that either.

So he finds himself in the hallway with a Big Gulp in his hand, standing in front of Rachel as his so-called friends stand at the other end of the all behind him.

She looks up at him, all big eyes and total sadness, and _fuck_. He can't fucking do this.

"Berry, I..."

"Just do it," she says.

"I can't," he says quietly, and he's totally not lying.

"Puck, just...you have to, right? You have to. So do it."

He looks at her, and she's totally serious. She's willing to take one for the team and he can't even stand up to this band of idiots. He hates to admit it but in this moment (and yeah, probably only this one) she's way more badass than him.

"Fuck. This...Are you gonna like, leave me high and dry later because of this? Because if you are..."

"Puck, I fully comprehend the situation and the consequences behind what I'm telling you to do. Just...just get it over with," she says seriously, closing her eyes tight and wincing.

He throws the slushie on her and walks away.

He feels fucking _terrible_.

----

He slips into her, staying still for a moment as she breathes into his ear and her hands slide down his back.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he says. He showed up at her door the same night of the slushie incident. He's already made her come twice. It's not like he's going for a record or anything, but dammit, he feels like such a jerk. "So sorry."

"Puck."

"Say it's okay," he pleads. When he pulls away and looks at her, she looks completely confused, like she's wondering why he needs (or cares about) her forgiveness.

She runs her hands over his head and pulls him close so she can kiss him. "It's okay. I promise."

She angles her hips and he sinks deeper, kissing her hard, because for whatever reason, knowing that she forgives him is a huge deal.

Don't ask why.

----

He stays away from her when she's all hopped up on decongestant, because honestly, she's a lot to handle at the best of times.

Sex with Rachel under the influence of an upper would probably fucking kill him.

----

When Rachel walks into his house, it's the first time in..._ever_ that his mom actually walks the girl to his room.

Then he sees it.

The Star of David hanging around her neck.

And he sees the look in his mother's eyes. She does this creepy smile thing as she leaves the room, tugging the door closed. It's like she's giving him permission to have sex in her house at 6:30 on a Wednesday, just because the girl's a Jew.

Score...?

"Thanks a fucking lot," he says, pulling Rachel into a hug. Yeah, like an actual hug. Innocent enough. (For now.)

"What?"

"You played the Jew card. You realize no good can come of this."

"Sure it can," she says, grabbing his hand and tugging him along with her as she lays down on his bed. He lands on top of her, gently, because somewhere along the way he's come to treat her just a little bit more delicately. Unless, you know, she asks him not to, which he's more than okay with.

"Yeah?" He pushes her tee shirt up, running his hand over her skin, hot beneath his palm. "How good?"

She laughs and shakes her head, and he smiles as his nose brushes against hers.

She calls him Noah for the first time that day. He doesn't correct her. He blames it on the fact that he's buried inside her and she's got her legs locked around his waist, her teeth tugging at his earlobe.

He's just got other things on his mind, okay?

----

Okay, so his plan totally backfired.

See, Sylvester picked teams, and he was with Rachel, Finn, Quinn and Brittany (which is like, a pretty awesome team, actually) but watching Rachel and Finn make eyes at one another and touch hands all day long was starting to make him feel sick to his fucking stomach. When Quinn somehow gives him an out (he honestly wonders why she doesn't want one), he takes it.

He realizes quickly that Quinn stayed to keep an eye on Rachel and Finn. Shit. She's so _smart_ sometimes.

"Nice socks. Wanna fuck?"

"Noah, we should not be fraternizing right now. We're on opposing teams, rivals, and I know you have a competitive spirit, much like I do. We should have as little contact as possible," she says. He blinks once, twice, and then she smiles. "But thank you for the compliment."

Compliment? Oh. The socks. She thought he was serious.

"It's been _two days_, baby," he says, practically begging. Whatever.

"What are you going to do when I get a boyfriend?" she asks, turning towards him.

His brow furrows. "What? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"It's inevitable, Noah. Eventually, I'll get a boyfriend. Or you'll get a girlfriend, though I think that's less likely, given your whole view on dating. When I get a boyfriend, this ends."

"Got any prospects?" he asks seriously. Shit. Rachel with another dude. That pisses him off. He can't even handle her singing with his best friend.

"Not at the moment, no. But it could happen. Any day. You never know who you're going to meet," she says. She actually believes that shit. Crazy.

"Well, until then, I need some lovin', baby. I'm going crazy here."

"After the competition is over, I'll be happy to fulfill your needs," she says.

And see, even when she makes it sound like a business transaction, it's still totally hot.

"You mean when you lose the competition," he says, leaning down to speak into her ear.

She gasps and her eyes go wide. "Oh, you will regret saying that."

Shit. Fuck. _Shit!_

----

He hooks up with Santana, since they're teammates and her moral compass pretty much points to whatever she wants at any given moment. She's still good, really good. She's not Rachel good, but whatever. She'll do. She doesn't care that they get right down to business as soon as he gets to her place, and she doesn't care that he leaves pretty much right after.

It's weird, he thinks, because he actually likes, like, talking with Rachel. She's kind of funny. And she's cute, the little smiles she has and how she giggles if he says something dumb, which happens a lot, but that's okay, because he knows he's not an idiot, and she never makes him feel like one.

He passes Rachel's on the way home. He thinks he might actually...miss her or something.

----

He lucks out when there is no competition. He doesn't have to regret saying her team (_of three_) would lose, and he doesn't have to deal with her gloating over winning. Awesome.

They fuck in his bed when his mom's at work and his sister is at a friends. She's louder than she's ever been. He loves every goddamn second.

----

They're just kind of...hanging out. And it's weird. Mostly because it's not weird at all.

Weird, right?

She's sitting at her desk and he's laying on her bed, flipping through an old issue of Maxim he had in his truck, because homework? No. And if he's not getting laid, he'll at least read about whatever shit is in this stupid magazine. He's not doing _math_.

"I don't want you to sleep with anyone else."

She states it like it's law or something, which is fucking bullshit, since...what the fuck?

"What the fuck?"

"I'm serious, Noah. It's been nearly a month. I don't have to tell you that I'm not seeing anyone else. It can still be just sex, but I'd appreciate it if this was the only kind of relationship you were involved in," she says, confident as ever. Suddenly she's standing at the side of the bed and looking down at him.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"So I have to be a fucking one woman dude?" he asks. "I don't do that shit."

"Well then...Well then you don't do me at all," she states, hand on hip.

He smirks. She said _do me_.

"What about you, sweetheart?" he asks, taking a step towards her. "You're with Finn all the fucking time. What if I tell you to stop all that shit?"

"Finn and I aren't sleeping together," she reminds him, as though he should already know it.

"You would if he wanted to," he says, and she bows her head. "If he touched you like this - " He doesn't even bother slipping his hand under her skirt, just presses his hand between her legs over the material, and she whimpers. " - you'd be on your back so fucking fast..."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it fucking is."

"No, it's not," she says harshly, pulling away from him. "And don't be crass."

"So wait. I have to stop all my fucking around, but the second you get a boyfriend, this is over," he says, remembering that other conversation.

"Believe it or not, Noah, you're in a somewhat stable...I'm reluctant to call it a relationship, since this thing between us is probably not healthy, and I'm sure that if I was still going to Dr. Schienfeld, she'd tell me this is wholly inappropriate and most likely emotionally and physically irresponsible. But this, between you and I, is a regularly occurring thing, and..."

"Okay, what the fuck did you just say, babe? Because I did not get _any_ of that."

"Like it or not, you're in a situation with someone. With one person. And she's asking you to do one thing for her," she says, sitting beside him. He runs his hand over her thigh, fingertips dipping beneath the fabric of her skirt.

"You gonna make this worth my while?" he asks, raising his brow.

"Why am I scared of what that might mean?"

"Bareback?" he suggests.

She laughs. She actually laughs. "No," she says seriously.

"You'd probably like it."

"That is the weakest argument I've ever heard. Give me your phone." She holds out her hand and he looks at her in confusion as he digs his cell out of his pocket. She keys in her number. Yeah, a whole month of hooking up and they never even exchanged numbers. Fucked! "There. Now you can call me whenever you want."

"Whenever I want you," he corrects.

"You can word it however you like," she says. Then she slings one leg over him so she's straddling his hips and starts undoing the buttons of her top.

"I thought you had homework," he says, though his hands are already on her, and he's wearing a grin that he knows is totally making her even hotter.

"Well, I could resume that particular task. I was just going to thank you for agreeing to be with only me."

She gets the last button undone, and he pushes her shirt down her arms.

"Thank away, baby."

----

There are a lot of perks to them having one anothers' numbers. It's not even that they hook up a lot more than they did before (a little more, though, so that's awesome).

It's that he gets to send her downright filthy texts. Like...sometimes even as he's typing them out, he can't believe he's saying it. Sometimes he does it in glee rehearsal, just so he can see how red she gets when she reads them. She eventually stops bringing her phone.

And she saved herself as _Rachel_ in his phone, but he changed it to _Berry_. She was pissed. It was cute.

No. Hot.

It was _hot_.

"You're unbelievable!" she hisses, coming up to him at his locker after practice, when everyone but Mr. Schue has left the school. He's kind of been expecting this, because she ignored him for an entire rehearsal. She didn't look at him once.

"Thanks, baby. You're awesome, too," he says lecherously.

"Do you realize that Finn was with me today when you sent me that abhorent message about...about your truck?"

He smiles. That was a good one. It wasn't so much about his truck as it was about her. The truck was just the where. (What? Who doesn't love a little road head?)

"So?"

"_So_?! What if he'd seen!?" she asks.

He turns to face her, eyes narrowed, because he is so fucking sick of hearing about Finn fucking Hudson from this girl. Does she really need that guy anymore?

"What if he had?" he asks, crossing his arms. "What? Would you lie? Say you hadn't been with anyone? That you aren't with me on a regular basis? Fuck, Berry, you really want him that bad?"

She looks like she thinks about it for a second. That fucking sucks. The answer should come to her pretty quickly.

"No," she says seriously. "No, I don't want him. I just thought you and I wanted to keep this as quiet as possible."

"Quiet is one thing, baby, but damn. Who fucking cares about Finn?" he asks, then laughs bitterly. "Right. You do."

"Finn is my friend, Noah. That's all." She reaches out and places her hand over his, and he uncrosses his arms, taking her hand as he turns so she's backed against the lockers and he has one hand on her hip.

If anyone were to see this right now, they'd get totally the wrong impression about this relationship. Because it's not a relationship. It's just sex.

Which he tries to convince himself of as he tucks her hair behind her ear and looks into her eyes. He's just leaning in to kiss her when they hear, "Oh!" coming from a voice in the hall.

"Mr. Schuester!" Rachel says urgently. Puck doesn't move. Neither does she, actually. She's just standing there, her hand still in his and still a little dazed from the almost kiss.

"I didn't realize you two were together," the teacher says as he approaches. "Actually, I kind of thought you hated each other."

Rachel looks up at Puck with these sad eyes and he just wants to scream at her, ask her how she could ever believe anyone when they say he hates her. And yeah, he cares.

"Naw," Puck says, smiling at her. Her own lips tug upward. "We're just uh...we're..."

"The pressures of having a relationship in the spotlight are too great right now, Mr. Schuester," Rachel explains evenly. She moves off the wall to stand in front of their teacher. "We've decided that, while we test the waters of this, it's best if no one else knows, lest we garner far too much attention from the gossip-seeking students at this school."

Puck isn't really sure of all that, but Schue buys it, so whatever.

"Right. Well, carry on, then!" he says, smiling all proud, like he's happy they're together or something.

Weird.

----

Turns out, Rachel gets really fucking hot at the prospect of them getting caught. (The only good thing that came of Mr. Schue finding them in the hall was her all but admitting this.)

She's way too much of a chicken shit to actually go through with any of his suggestions (supply closet, choir room, football field, cafeteria at high noon; you know, the usual) but he learns that most of the time she's so tightly wound that all he has to do is lock eyes with her or wink or some shit like that, and she's texting him to come to her house, or to say that she's coming over after glee.

And most of the time, he just wants to grab her and kiss the breath out of her, fuck whoever's looking. But she's still into this whole secret thing - he thinks she gets off on that, too - and he likes having sex with her way too much to question her rules. What kind of idiot would it make him if he said the wrong thing and she ended up breaking everything off?

His sister's got indoor soccer on Tuesdays and his mom always goes, so from 6:00-8:30, that's _Puck's time_. And what does Puck like to do in his spare time? Fuck. That's what. (Oh, don't act surprised.)

Rachel shows up at 6:07. Sweet. He loves that she doesn't waste time. Also? He loves that he's told her where the spare key is, so he doesn't have to get up or leave his room to let her in. He just hears the front door open and knows he's gonna be having sex in a matter of minutes. Dude, his life is _so_ awesome right now.

She walks into his room wearing the same thing she was wearing at school, and he's pretty thankful for that. Her skirt is totally schoolgirl-esque. More than most of them. It's this light grey with pink plaid and pleats at one side. She's wearing a pink button down shirt, and her hair is all sexy, tumbling over her shoulders.

It's funny, he thinks, how she can look so innocent, and then two seconds later, she's got his shaft in her hand and her tongue in his mouth. He is _so_ glad he's the only one who knows that.

She walks towards him, takes his guitar from him and sets it on its stand. He doesn't move. He's slouched down against his headboard, tee shirt bunched around his stomach, showing a little skin between the black cotton and his jeans. His hands find her hips immediately when she slings one leg over him, straddling his hips.

"Hi," she says sweetly, the first word he's heard her say since glee practice.

And glee practice doesn't really count, because no one listens to her anyway.

(He totally does, but shut up about it. It's just hard to watch her lips moving, thinking of better uses for them, and not register at least a little bit of what she's going on about.)

"Hey." He reaches up and tucks her hair behind her ear when it falls in her face, and she bunches his tee shirt into her fists at his chest. "You didn't kill Kurt."

She laughs and shakes her head. "No. I thought I was going to kill _you_," she admits. "I can't believe you made me get a ride home with him."

"I told you I had to get home."

"And do what?" she asks laughingly. "Play guitar in your bedroom?"

He smirks. (Yeah, he totally stuck her with Hummel just to fuck with her.) "It's important. How am I supposed to reach my full potential without a strict practice schedule?" he asks, knowing damn well he's got her there, because she's always preaching about that shit.

"You're so full of it," she insists. She leans forward and kisses him, her hips rolling against his a little bit. Not enough. He grabs her hips and presses her against him a little more. "Mmm."

Jesus. See the shit he's up against? No wonder he can't quit this girl.

And he knows her well enough to know that she's ready, even now, even though she hasn't even been at his place for five minutes.

"You're already hot for me, huh?" he asks smugly.

"You don't know..." She closes her eyes and shakes her head. He kisses her.

"What?"

"Sometimes...you have this way of looking at me, and..." She cuts herself off, opens her eyes and takes a breath, and he's running his hand slowly up and down her back. He wants to hear what she has to say, what she's getting at. "It's different."

His heart shouldn't be beating so fucking hard.

(In the last week or so, he's decided that his heart is a cruel _bitch_ who's out to run his [sex] life.)

"Okay."

"No," she says, laughing softly and shaking her head. "No, it's...it's better than okay."

He doesn't know what she means by that. She kisses him before he can ask. And yeah, he shouldn't care. But he kind of does.

"Wait. Wait," he says just before her hands slip beneath his shirt. "How do I look at you?"

He makes it sound like she's insane for implying there's anything more to the glances he gives her than just him picturing her naked.

She runs her hands over his head and pushes her hips against his a little more. "You look at me like you...like you actually like me or something," she says with a smile.

He reaches up, starting work on the buttons of her top. "You're fucking nuts," he says, because what? _Liking_ her? No.

I mean, not really.

"Yeah. I mean, you really, really hate me," she says, smirking at him as he runs his hand between her breasts, stopping to slip his fingertips beneath the fabric of her bra.

He can't help but smile. "Totally do."

He pushes her shirt open and their eyes lock for a second. It scares him - yes, scares - because he feels like if anyone could figure him out (when even he can't), it's her. And she's the last person he wants knowing anything about him.

(Right? Right. Yeah.)

She pulls her shirt off her arms as he sits up to tug his shirt over his head. He drops it between them and she scowls and tosses it in his face. He kisses her as he drops both their shirts on the floor. Her hands move to the buckle of his belt, but for some reason (seriously, he doesn't get it) he doesn't want this to go fast. They've got time, lots of it, and he thinks it'd be nice to do this slowly for once. They've done slow as in _'I'm going to use every method of foreplay possible to bring you to the edge and maybe push you over a couple times before I'm even inside you',_ but they've never done slow as in _'I want to take my time and really feel you, really understand you.' _

God, he is _such_ a pussy. If he wasn't straining against his jeans, he'd totally think he'd turned into a chick.

"Noah, I need you _so_ badly right now," she breathes into his ear.

Yeah, so slow? _Not_ happening.

He slips his hand beneath her skirt between them just as she unzips his fly.

"Holy fuck, baby," he groans. "Where the hell are your panties?"

She arches against his hand, desperate for more, forehead falling against his. "Don't you like this?"

"Oh my god, yes," he says, circling her clit with his middle finger. Her nails dig into his shoulder and she lets out a heavy breath. "What am I turning you into?"

She laughs a little bit, opening her eyes. "I don't know. But I like it."

"Me too," he says against her lips, kissing her as he slips his finger inside her. She whimpers a little bit, and for some reason, he's not at all surprised at how wet she is for him. "You're perfect, baby. So perfect."

Huh. He's called her a lot of things. It's a first for that one.

Her hand moves down to the three buttons at the side of her skirt and she quickly unwraps it from her body as he pulls her bra off her. His hands move up and down her sides as he takes her in, naked and, yes, perfect, sitting on top of him. He should not have pants on right now. He pushes her off him, and she giggles a little bit as she lands on his bed, hair falling in her face.

As she watches him stand and push down his pants, he knows she's thinking that it's funny that this time, he's wearing underwear when she isn't (wasn't). Before she can lay down, and after he's got his boxers off, he grabs her wrist, switching their positions, so he's laying on his back and she's standing next to the bed.

"You're not exactly subtle, Noah," she says, raising her brow as he runs his thumb over the inside of her wrist, tugging her back towards him.

"You're naked in my room. Fuck subtle." She just laughs as she straddles him again, and he groans when she presses against him, wet and warm. "Goddamn, Berry."

She lifts herself off him a little bit, leaning over to pull open the drawer of his bedside table. He hates the way she's not pressed against him anymore, but her breasts are literally right in his face, and he takes one in his hand and the other in his mouth. She freezes momentarily, lets out a sexy little moan, then goes back to the task at hand.

When she sits back down on his lap, she uses one hand to (very, very sexily) push her hair back, and tries to hand him the condom with the other.

"You," he manages. He's smirking when he clasps his hands behind his head. Her jaw drops, but their eyes stay locked as she tears the package open and slips the condom on. "God, you're already...fuck."

(And no, he doesn't have any clue what he was trying to say there.)

She kisses him hard, one hand on his shoulder as she guides him inside her, arching her back immediately at the sensation of him filling her.

And as fucked up as it is, she's so tight that it feels like he's fucking her for the first time every time he enters her. And she loves this as much as he does, her on top. She gets to be all controlling and shit, which is totally her crack, and he gets to watch her. It usually doesn't take either of them very long when they do it this way.

(This time, for the first time, as much as he's enjoying it, he kind of wishes he'd stuck with that whole slow idea. Oh well.)

She does this crazy figure eight thing with her hips that always, always makes them both a little crazy, and he juts his hips upward, but his hands stay (clasped _tightly_) behind his head.

"Noah," she breathes out, hands running down his chest. "Noah, touch me. Please."

He finally does as she asks, only after she lets out a sexy-as-fuck whine and literally starts pouting. One hand travels up her back as the other rests on her thigh, and he pushes her between her shoulder blades, forcing her down towards him so he can kiss those fucking amazing lips of hers. She's still rocking her hips slowly, and he likes it. Way too much. Way more than he should. Usually when she's on top, he's pulling her towards him, snapping his hips against her, meeting her thrust for thrust. They're meeting in the middle he supposes, unknowingly compromising.

Who the fuck thinks about _compromises_ when he's buried inside a girl? Jesus Christ. He palms her breast and sucks at her neck to get himself back on track, and then _oh god_, she does that thing where she flips her hair over her shoulder all sexy. She looks like a fucking star right now. He doesn't even know what kind of star he means. Maybe the kind she likes.

She raises herself off him a little more as she runs her nails lightly down his chest, then slides back down on him, and he thinks his eyes are rolling back in his head.

"Baby, you're so fucking good. So good."

"Noah, I..." she says.

He cuts her off, thinking she wants more, harder, so he thrusts into her again. "God, Berry."

She stops moving. No, no, _no_!

"Call me Rachel," she insists, hands on his chest. She's sitting perfectly still. It's fucking _torture_. He's _so_ close.

He says nothing. She rolls her hips just once.

"Fuck. Baby..."

"Call me _Rachel_," she says again, more forcefully this time.

She looks so fucking hot, riding him, getting all dom (well, not _really_, but _fuck_) and telling him to call her name. He'll pretty much do anything she wants right now. Anything.

"Rachel! Rachel, _please_. _Fuck_."

She does that figure eight thing again (seriously, he doesn't know how she knows how to do that) and he's seriously barely hanging on, so he reaches down and pinches her clit lightly, just the way she likes, before rubbing his thumb in a well-practiced pattern that has her moving faster and gripping his bicep with one hand, her other on his stomach.

She's tightening around him moments later, her leg quivering as she calls his name so loudly that he's sure the neighbours hear. He's fucking happy she's coming, because there's no possible way he can hold out any longer, and with one more movement from her, he's kneading her thigh and letting go, and she falls against his chest, hair tickling his neck and her sweat-slicked skin pressing against his.

He holds her against him, still inside her (so warm, so perfect) and moves his hand over her back, brushes her hair from her face as they both try to control their breathing.

"Oh my god," she whispers, kissing a line across his chest. "That was...I can't even..."

"Speechless?" he asks. Fuck, he loves it when he can do that to her, get her all tongue tied and lethargic.

Yeah, bitches. _Lethargic_. Look it up.

"Amazing," she says quietly.

She pulls herself away from him, and they both groan a little bit when he slips out of her. When she lays down on her back next to him, he realizes that all he wants to do is like, _hold_ her and stuff. Maybe talk. Maybe sleep.

He needs to get away from her. He gets up and heads to the bathroom, and after pitching the condom he braces himself against the sink. Why, all of a sudden, does just having sex with her not feel like enough? He doesn't do relationships.

He just wants Berry.

_Rachel_. He just wants Rachel.

When he steps back into his bedroom, she's laying there in one of his favourite tee shirts (a Cleveland Indians one he's had since seventh grade). Her hands are tucked under her cheek, legs bent at the knee. She's just laying there. She's not doing anything. He grabs a pair of sweats and pulls them on before laying down next to her, and when she moves so she's against him, he doesn't make a comment about her crossing their lines (like he has before) or just wanting him again (which she usually does).

"Stay," he says quietly, running his fingers through her hair. He feels her smile as she kisses his chest.

"Can we just...can we just lay here like this?" she asks. She sounds like she really doesn't know what he's going to say.

"Yeah, Rach."

She lets out this adorable sigh and slings her leg over his.

He likes this way too fucking much.

He likes _her_ way too fucking much.

_How_ did he let this happen?

----

She's literally pacing the floor of the choir room when he walks in. He's been working at the stupid bake sale all day, pretty much, so he hasn't seen her around. Except in the morning when she ran into the door in her wheelchair and he laughed. She looked kinda pissed, but then she rolled her eyes, so he's pretty sure he's still good.

"'Sup?" he asks, jutting his chin towards her. She looks terrified. "What's with you?"

They aren't the only ones in the room. He tries to make it sound casual, like he doesn't really care. But he does, okay? He cares. Just a little. (A _lot_.)

"I'm..." She glances around and notices that only Quinn and Finn are looking her way. "I'm nervous," she whispers.

"Why the fuck are you nervous?"

"Because everyone likes him more than they like me," she says, looking down.

He so wants to grab her right now, shake her and tell her that she's a fucking nutcase. But there are eyes on them, so he can't.

"I don't," he says seriously. "Clearly." He almost wiggles his eyebrows, but that'd be a giveaway. "Relax. You got this."

She takes a deep breath and smiles weakly. He thinks he's actually helped her or something, and it makes him feel kind of lame, so when she turns around to take her seat, he smacks her ass. The whole room goes silent, and Rachel spins around, her cheeks red and her jaw dropped.

"What?" he asks with a smirk. "'S'what we do before a big game. Doesn't cross over?" He almost laughs when no one says anything. "Fine, then."

He sits down next to Matt, who's just laughing and shaking his head. Whatever. It's not like he's never touched her ass before. Of course, not everyone else knows that, but that's their fucking problem.

He sits back in his seat at the back of the room and smirks as he listens to her absolutely nail the song. No seriously, like, he's heard the song a couple times. It's her fucking ringtone, okay? And then maybe one more time (two) when she wanted to run through it and he wanted to get laid, so they compromised and she ran through it _before_ he got laid. See the shit he goes through for this girl?

Anyway, she kills it. Like, he's the first one clapping, but everyone else follows right after, and she looks like she might start crying or launch into an acceptance speech or something. She does neither, just takes a seat.

Next to Finn.

Puck is not happy about that.

See, here's the thing.

He's not jea...

Well...

He's totally fucking jealous.

She's _his_. Doesn't she know that by now?

Okay, so he hasn't exactly told her, but fuck. Come on. They've been doing this, hooking up and whatever, and he thinks he's made it kind of clear that he, you know, likes her well enough and stuff. What does a guy have to do to get his girl the fuck away from Finn?

Rachel gets the solo. Of course, she does. She's the best singer in that whole damn place, and as if Hummel was going to beat her.

So he waits around for her in the parking lot, in the warmth of his truck, totally expecting to get a little (fine, a lot of) crazy 'I got the solo!' sex at her place, since it's Thursday and her dads are out for their weekly date night.

But when she walks out, she's with Finn, walking with him to his car.

What. The. Fuck.

(No really. _What the fuck?_)

She throws him this little glance over her shoulder as she walks, and he doesn't know what the fuck that means.

Alright, so he can assume that Finn offered her a ride and she didn't want to say no thanks, that she was getting a ride with Puck. Because, yeah, Finn's face would probably go purple or something stupid like that as he tried to figure out why Puck would do anything with Rachel.

(Oh, if he only knew.)

He's just pulled away from the 7-11, dip in his back pocket and a Redbull in his hand. Both are things Rachel doesn't approve of. That's not why he's got them, though. No. It's not some kind of stupid rebellion or whatever. She's not his fucking girlfriend. He can do whatever he wants, and he plans on it. Because fuck her.

Oh, god, he hopes Finn is not doing that very thing right now.

But Rachel wouldn't go for that. Rachel wouldn't sleep with a guy who had a girlfriend.

But then again, he never thought Rachel was the kind of girl who'd have an ongoing, secret, hot as fuck, FWB relationship with someone, either.

When he gets the text message telling him to come over, he honestly doesn't know what to do. Finn obviously isn't there, because fuck, it's not like they're all gonna hang out together or anything. But he's still pissed, because it's Thursday, and it's _their day_, always, since the beginning, and she just blew him off for Finn like he didn't even fucking exist.

It's possible he's exaggerating.

He's got two options here.

One, end this arrangement altogether.

Two, have a talk about like, feelings and stuff, which he's pretty sure would make him want to shoot himself in one of those arteries that take a long time to bleed out.

(Damn Rachel and her love of CSI.)

And yeah, he's totally at the point where_ any_thing and _every_thing reminds him of her, which is fucking annoying, by the way.

He gives his Redbull to a kid with a skateboard waiting at a red light, then stuffs the Skoal can into his glove box. (What? He might want that at some point when _she's_ not around.)

Then he drives to her house. Come on, did you really think he wouldn't?

She's sitting on the couch in the living room when he walks in, and he kneels in front of her, grabbing her thighs to pull her closer to him, kissing her as good as he knows how and making her moan into his mouth. Her hand grabs onto the back of his collar and, god, he could do this every single day. He does already, but he could _keep_ doing it.

"Don't fuck Finn," he breathes, eyes closed and forehead pressed against hers.

She starts laughing. _Laughing_.

"What on earth are you talking about?" She tugs his arm, and he sits on the sofa next to her, tipping his head back as he lets out a frustrated sigh. "Noah."

"I don't want you with him! I don't want you with anyone."

"I'm not," she reminds him, brow knit in confusion.

"You and Finn are like, girlfriends. You're like one step away from trading fucking friendship bracelets and having sleepovers," he says. This makes her laugh again. Bitch! "Rachel, I'm fucking serious."

"I know you are. That's what's so funny," she says. She slips her hand into his. "Why don't you want me with Finn? Or anyone, apparently."

"Because," he grounds out. She doesn't say anything. "Because you're _mine_."

"I'm...what?"

"Look, you're my girl. Okay? Jesus. Is it a secret? We've been fucking for months. I've given up other chicks." He looks at her and she's biting her lip. God, the things he wants to do to her. "I...like you."

"You do?" she asks quietly.

"Yeah," he says. "Which is pretty fucked up. But I don't want you getting all wet for Finn again, because...fuck. Just..."

She cuts him off, taking his face in her hands and kissing him. Huh. That's gotta be a good thing, right?

"I'm not, as you put it, getting wet - " She cringes as she says it, and he smiles. " - for anyone but you, Noah."

"Really?" He hates how unsure he sounds. He's always sure. Always.

"Why do you think I wore the necklace that day when I knew your mother would be home? Why do you think I told you I didn't want you seeing anyone else? Why do you think I begged you to start using my real name?"

He's just sitting there looking at her, because _holy fucking shit_.

"You...you planned on this? On me..."

"I hoped," she whispers, looking to her hands. "It didn't start out that way. I didn't just...seduce you into..."

"Yeah, you did."

"I wasn't trying to get you to like me at first. At first it was just sex." She looks up at him and he's almost, almost smiling. "I don't know when that changed."

"What're you saying, here? Because I'm a fucking retard when it comes to this stuff," he says, shaking his head lightly.

"That's incredibly offensive, Noah, and politically incorrect. Not to mention, I'm almost certain that even the developmentally challenged would be better at handling their emotions than you are, but I digress." He's rolling his eyes, and she's holding his hand. "What I'm saying is that I like you too."

"See?" he says, smiling. "Why couldn't you just _say_ that? Why'd you trick me?"

"I didn't _trick_ you," she giggles. "Noah, three weeks ago, if I'd told you I had actual feelings for you, what would you have done?"

"Cut and run," he answers without hesitation. She kinks her brow. "Oh. Gotcha."

They both laugh and he pulls her closer, resting his forehead against hers. He kisses her gently, totally loving the little sound she lets out.

"So, we're together," she states, like it's not up for argument. He doesn't want to argue. Fuck that noise, he's got the girl now. "Legitimately together."

"Awesome. But can we get naked now? Because we've been talking about feelings and shit, and I feel like my junk's gonna fall off if I don't put it to good use."

She smiles and kisses him again, and when he stands and pulls her up with him, he lifts her up, making her squeal as she locks her legs around his waist. He's just about to start walking towards the stairs when he brushes the hair away from her face with the hand that isn't holding her in place.

"Hey," he says softly, their eyes meeting. "You sang like a champ today."

She laughs softly and kisses him. "I know." He just shakes his head before he kisses her again, letting his tongue trace her lips. "Noah?"

"Yeah, baby?" He moves them towards the stairs slowly, because he can't stop looking at her, and yeah, tripping over the carpet or whatever would make him a total loser.

"I'm not wearing any underwear."

He almost drops her. He backs her against the wall just after he's hit the second step, bracing his hand next to her, and his head rests on her shoulder.

"Goddammit, Rachel," he groans. "You're gonna kill me."

"Now why would I want to do that?" she asks, running her hand over his head, her other thumb tracing his bottom lip gently. "Why would I do that when I need you so badly?"

He pulls her thumb past his lips and sucks on it a little bit, because yeah, that's totally hot, and her eyes are almost black as she watches him. Then he sets her on her feet and turns her so she's facing the staircase.

"Go," he says gruffly, pushing her a little bit.

"Noah," she giggles.

He smacks her ass for the second time that day and she takes his hand and leads him up the stairs.

He decides that maybe this whole relationship thing isn't so bad at all.

You know, since she tricked him into it and they've basically been in one since that day they decided to only sleep with one another.

And no, he's not going to let her off the hook for that so easily. He's got plans. Big plans.

_**-Fin-**_


End file.
